Revfew's Iron Man
by Revfew
Summary: When Tony Stark is captured by a slowly diminishing entrepreneur to build weapons, he creates a suit and escapes. Kept alive by a machine keeping shrapnel from entering his heart, Tony takes up a career in crime-fighting as Iron Man.
1. Exiting Hell

Tony had a hessian sack ripped off of his head which allowed a blinding light to pierce his eyes. Around him stood the terrorists that had kidnapped him, from his chest hung the wires that were keeping him alive. He still didn't know or care who had taken him, or didn't know why there had been people both trying to kill him and rescue him. He just wanted to know the way out. Oh, and the way to the rest room.

A bald, middle aged man with a hooked nose entered his eyeline, smiling and stinking of cream cheese. He leant in closer, his breath becoming available.

"Tony," he wheezed, in an irritatingly high-pitched tone with a hint of jet-lag, "so nice to have you here!"

"Who are...you?" was all he managed to get out without the pain overtaking him. The stranger laughed.

"You don't recognise me?"

"N...no..."

"Seriously? Or are you just trying to be rude?"

"Ar...re..."

"Yes..."

"Are y..you..."

"Yessss..."

"Are you gon...gonna wash any time soon. You stink..."

The stranger laughed, before slapping Tony across the face with a deformed hand, which had long boney fingers, two of which were fused together.

"Aw...bab...baby don't be that way..." Tony chuckled softly, enraging the stranger even more.

"I should've known better than to play to your immaturity, Stark. I'm surprised you didn't know me. Adrian Toomes?"

"Can't say...it rings a bell...sorry."

"I'm the leading engineer scientist for OsCorp! We met at a party once! No? Well, can't say you made much of an impression either."

"Then...why am I here?"

"Well, I need your forced help. My hands, as you can see, aren't exactly nimble, and my head's got a problem. Nothing serious, just an impending sense of delusion. Doctors say I could think I'm something like a bird in about three years."

"Help with what, a social life, finding friends, getting a fashion sense?"

"I'm building stuff, Stark. Jetpacks, that kind of thing. The Vulture initiative, that's what the army called it. But then Golden Boy Tony comes blazing in, and I lose my military contract. So, I come to these guys, offer them all my inventive backlog, next thing you know, I'm _rolling _in it!"

"What's this...got to do with helping you?"

"You're going to mass produce my jetpacks, but with your weaponry. We've got your stuff shipped over, just for you."

"If I don't?"

"I get the doctor that saved you, to rip that God damn magnet out of your body. That enemy strike, it embedded shrapnel _so close, _that a puny electromagnet is the only thing keeping your blood pumping."

"I know...I was there..."

"Alright, Ms Bitchy, calm down. I'm just putting my point across. Now, you'll be escorted back to your room, where you'll find blueprints and equipment. You'll build the packs, give them to the men, and then you'll be shot."

"That's not fair."

"Neither is making me lose my military contract."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Tony sat at a work bench, fully aware of the armed units outside. He hammered away at what was going to become a blast tube for the packs, somewhat begrudgingly. He got up to admire his work, and noticed that it resembled an arm.

He had a eureka moment. He didn't know how he was going to keep the work a secret, but he was going to try anyway. So for the next few weeks he worked on his project. Whenever anyone came to analyse his work, he would just arrange the pieces so that they looked vaguely like a jetpack. They didn't really know or maybe even _care _that it looked out of place. Didn't really bother him either.

He kept space in the corner, biding his time for a moment to attack. He even forged the perfect mask, with room to articulate and say cool stuff. The time has coming, and he wasn't sure he was prepared. He'd probably have to wing it.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

It was night when the gunfire broke out. Adrian Toomes was woken up by the screams and bullets and sighed, turning over and burying his ears in his imported goose-feather pillows. Ugh, he couldn't take the noise. He grabbed the machine gun underneath his bed and exited his hut, getting his gun ready.

He faced the semi-cave system that contained the work shops _and _the screams, guessing whatever was causing that much fear would be working its way through there. He sighed, hoping his jetpacks were either made or well-protected. He didn't care about Stark, obviously.

From the darkness marched a giant metal man, made of familiar material.

"My jetpacks!" he exclaimed, before letting rip with the machine gun. The bullets pinged off, even if some embedded themselves in the metal. The man walked to Toomes and managed to grab him as he made to flee.

"Adrian, ol' pal! Going so soon?"

"Stark! J-j-just let me go, please! Oh please!"

"Really? And you'll let me go?"

"...yes."

"Thought so."

He threw the nervous captor on the ground and punched him in the face, before slapping Adrian multiple times. Then he put a foot, almost, through his chest. By this point he realised that the man was dead.

"Sorry 'bout that. Gotta survive."

He walked out of the camp, and into the desert.

"How the hell do I get home?"


	2. A Suit Is Born

James Rhodes was sitting amidst the sun, with his fellow soldiers. They surrounded Bolivar Trask, Secretary of Defence, giving talks about his planned "Operation Desert-Sweeping", a plan to use vibrations to sense for hidden warheads in deserts related to Al Qaeda. Trask was behind the Sentinel program, which was currently in development under as many wraps as possible.

"...and so, gentlemen, Desert-Sweeping should provide us with numerous defence resources. Gone is the need for operatives out there in combat."

They clapped politely.

"Now, any questions?"

"Yeah. Where do I fit in to this?"

They turned. Rhodes got up and walked over to his friend, Tony, kneeling in the sand while encased in a chunky, cumbersome metal suit. He laughed, before collapsing at his feet.

"We need a medic!"

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

He stirred one more time before bursting up from his makeshift bed. He noticed that all the wires were still, thankfully, present. His friend James, or 'Rhodey' as he called him, was standing across the way from him, looking away.

"Thanks for keeping me plugged in."

Rhodey turned to him.

"What the _hell _happened?!"

"Uh, basically I was kidnapped, hit by grenade shrapnel which embedded itself so close to my heart that this electro-magnet is keeping me alive then built an iron suit, escaped, trekked here and started this talk. Satisfied?"

"What happens if that magnet fails?"

Tony dragged his index finger across his throat, making a "Squich" sound and lolling his eyes. Rhodey sighed.

"You can't just walk around with a magnet in your chest for the rest of your life."

"I know. Listen, is Trask still here!"

"Yeah, I think."

"Yo, Bolivar!" Tony shouted, giving a nod to Rhodey as the bald head of Bolivar Trask entered the room.

"Ah, Stark, you're awake."

"Am I?! No way!"

"What idiocy did you call me in for?"

"Two things. I need the arc reactor schematics I gave you before you left."

"Ok...and?"

"As from now, our military contract is over."

He smiled cheekily at the two agape people.

"You can't just cancel it Stark!"

"Yes I can so I will. Go find another monkey, Trask. And while you're at it, make sure you look over Adrian Toomes's work. He seemed smart."

Trask and Rhodey walked to the door.

"Don't forget my reactor stuff!"

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Tony walked outside, having replaced his magnet with a more powerful miniature arc-reactor. It'd been a pretty messy, death-defying task that had brought him to the brink of vomiting, but he'd overcome his troubles. The reactor was meant to act quicker and more efficient than the magnet, plus with more style. He tapped Rhodey on the shoulder and smiled.

"When we getting home?"

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Justin Hammer was justifiably upset when he learned of the survival of Tony Stark.

"One job," he screamed, pushing his thick glasses back up his face, "one job and you blow it! I knew I should've gone for the other guy!"

The trio remained silent, and held their heads down.

"It wasn't our fault, boss."

"Yes it was! I tell you to kill Stark, you end up in gang warfare while he gets away! Just...just get out!"

They filed out awkwardly. Hammer sighed. This added to the stress of both Octavius's presentation on spider DNA, and the whole government thing. He was planning to join in with the idiots out in Congress, to be perfectly bigger than usual. To do this, he would have to be top of his market. And to do _this_, he would have to kill Stark.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Tony still couldn't stop thinking of the suit he'd built, how ingenious it was. He was thinking of mass developing them for others. But, now that he was without a military contract (happily) and without a friend outside of Happy, his bodyguard, his butler and to a lesser extent Pepper, his PA, it seemed like a distant dream destined to die.

He _could _build his own. But he wouldn't have a use for it, even if it would make a great party piece. His train of thought was unceremoniously cut off when he was interrupted by his butler, Jarvis. Jarvis had been there since day one, guiding Tony's dad Howard.

"Excuse me sir, but welcome home."

"Thanks, Jarvis. Nice to be home."

"Permission to hug, sir?"

"Permission most certainly granted."

As they embraced, a tall, red-headed woman in a business suit walked in.

"Oh, you're back." she sighed.

"C'mon, I know you're glad to see me."

"I'd be more glad with a military contract and less media buzz right now. People are saying you were abducted by aliens, that you were brought to a new Atlantis, and even that you were brainwashed and sent into the wilderness by the Government."

"Y'know, I was thinking of joining Twitter, getting my ideas across. I reckon I could at _least _get a million, maybe two million followers."

"Could you take this seriously?"

"I most certainly am. I saw what could be made of Stark weapons, when I was kidnapped. And it terrified me. It broke me, so hard I never thought I'd be fixed. So, before you start telling me to _take this seriously, _just imagine that."

He stormed out and down a hidden staircase, which led to his private workshop.

"Don't worry Miss Potts. I'm sure it's only a phase." Jarvis murmured, fleeing slowly to complete other duties.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Hammer was weary when it came to hiring. His confidence couldn't be shattered, but his attention and attitude could. So, when the medium-built, thick faced man who had spoken to him on the phone arrived, he was fearing a bust-up.

"So, you exist. Was worried you were a fake voice for a while."

"No, Mister Hammer. Otherwise, I wouldn't have wasted your time."

"Course not...you wouldn't exist so you couldn't- never mind that. You're sure you can take down Stark?"

"Of course. One of the best marksmen around."

"You seem detached. That's great."

"In this business, you can be anything but loving."

Hammer handed his guest a paper folder, full of details about Tony. The man got up to go.

"Thanks, mr? I never asked you for a name..."

"Just call me Coldblood."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Twelve hours later, Tony emerged from his shop. He was greeted by Jarvis in the kitchen.

"You seem to have been hard at work, sir."

"You tell me. I've been building a suit, I suppose you could call it that."

"How interesting, sir. May I ask what it is for?"

"Display, tomfoolery, and a little bit of picking up chicks. And just in case, weapons systems."

"Hm. Well, I doubt you'll need to use it sir."

"I d-"

There was a distinct sound. The obvious tone of smashed glass. Tony and Jarvis looked at each other, nodded and sneaked slowly into a cubby hole. They were brought down in an elevator to the workshop.

"Doors, lock!" Tony commanded, before walking confidently towards a metal armour.

"What are you playing at, sir?"

"Suiting up, Jarvis. Time to test this baby out on the classic home invader scenario!"

He stepped onto the feet of the suit, which began a process of slotting and sliding metal pieces. After about three seconds, Tony was enveloped in the full shebang. His face, now a golden-cum-red mask with glowing blue eyes, was emotionless.

"Iron Man, test flight one now in session."

He saluted his friend, before exiting through the elevator. Time to fight, it would seem.


	3. Here Be A Hero

Tony had a little pop-up screen built into the "mask" of the suit. With a prompt, it began scanning for life forms. He was picking up a distinct heat-signature from about ten meters away. Suddenly, without warning, bullets flew towards him. Harmlessly they pinged off him, like rain off of a window.

"Strange...bullets usually work."

A figure, the heat signature, approached from the dark. He was medium height, and wore blue goggles. His right arm was encased in a twirling row of bullets, while he held a top-market, heavy duty rifle in his gloved hands.

"Hey, GI Joe. I don't take too kindly to home invaders."

"I can see that, Jack Haley. How much did all this cost, huh?"

"More than that pea-shooter."

"You think you're a regular Bill Cosby? Well, I've got news for you: I can't stand the Cosby Show!"

He started firing even more at Tony, who just stood there and took the hits.

"You know, you really can't be that smart."

"What I lack for in brains, I make up for in quickness. Oh, and brains."

Tony looked down, and saw that the bullets were flashing. He shrank to the ground, as an electrical impulse pounded through him.

"You know why they call me Coldblood?"

"I cannot say I do, sir. But, shall we find out?"

Jarvis fired two shotgun shots into Coldblood, who fell to the ground. Tony was helped up by his friend.

"So...we got any kind of beer at all?"

They laughed. But they didn't notice Coldblood stir. He pushed himself up and fired a flurry of shots, before dying of blood loss. Jarvis fell, blood pouring out of him.

"Sorry...sir."

"No Jarvis! I can fix this! I can make a reactor, like mine. It'll keep you going!"

"Sorry...sir...but it's my time. Over the years...I've been looking after you...when all this time...you..."

"Jarvis, please! Please, I have to help you!"

""You...were looking after me...goodbye, sir...goodbye, Anthony..."

"G-goodb-bye...Jarvis..."

He sobbed, as his friend lay cold in his arms.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Hammer watched as his line to killing Tony Stark was dumped in a river. Not only was he disappointed, he was furious. He would try to kill him himself, but didn't like getting his hands dirty.

His phone buzzed.

"It's Hammer."

"Hey, it's Tony. Listen, next time you send someone to kill me, make sure they can handle me."

Hammer froze.

"How did-"

"I have my sources. By the way, you know how much years you can get in prison for conspiring to murder?"

"You've got no proof, Stark. I'm in the clear right now."

"Really? Because your friend had something on his person. Some kind of insurance, I don't know. But it's got a fully recorded conversation between you and him, discussing me and more specifically how to kill me."

"God damn it! Listen, it was nothing personal. Just business!"

"That's, uh, interesting. Because I'm about two minutes away with a group of cops, a call traced quite some time ago _and _a clever lie about a recording. C'mon, Hammer! Keep up the game! Only you could want me gone that much. Nice touch, by the way. Men in the desert. But they ran into trouble, ran into Adrian Toomes."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Tony had decided to use the suit for something great. Something Jarvis would be proud of. He'd drunk for days straight, but that had no bearing on his decision.

From now on, Iron Man was a force for good. A force for justice. And a really good way of getting around.


	4. Gargoyle

In the dead of the night, no one could expect it. Not even the bank guards, who spent every minute watching the small CCTV screens.

"So, Ted, you see the game last night?" one asked to the other, sipping a cup of coffee slowly.

"Of course! Jesus, you'd think with all the offense we've been buying, we could afford to win a game or two."

"Too right, my friend. Too right."

They laughed. One guard looked back down at his monitor and spat out his drink. The doors had been ripped open, and the two outer guards on the ground.

"Come on!"

They got up and grabbed two shotguns, exiting out into the corridor. One guard gestured to the other to take one side, while he ran down to the end. He turned the corner and saw two armed men.

"Freeze and withdraw!" he demanded, but they began firing at him. He ducked behind the corner and fired shots at them. He managed to knock down both of them, and returned to the monitor room. He found his partner lying on the ground, with a single, needle-made puncture mark in his neck. He was still, but not dead.

"You shouldn't have left him alone, mon ami."

He turned to see a tall, wide brimmed man wearing tinted blue sunglasses and a grey suit.

"Who are you?! What do you want?!"

"I'm in a bank, monsieur, put two and two together. As for my name...well, you may call me the Gargoyle. A Grey Gargoyle. Now, be still."

He plunged a syringe into the guard's slightly flabby neck and he began to feel still, like a statue. He fell to the floor, paralysed.

"Now, you wait there. I'm in the money!"

The Gargoyle walked outside and towards the vault, nothing to stop him.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

"...the latest victims of the Statue Killer were found today in the vault of a downtown bank, which had been emptied of..."

Tony switched off the tv. He was ready to start this whole "hero" thing, and couldn't find a better example of where to commence. He didn't notice Pepper enter the room behind him.

"You ok?" she asked, sounding genuinely sympathetic.

"Its been two weeks. He'd have wanted me to move on in his memory."

"Ok. As long as you're fine."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

The Gargoyle sat in the office he'd built himself, contained within a damp safe house. His head hurt even more today than ever, an irritating defect he had been given at birth.

He was almost finished with his heists. They were all in good faith, he'd made sure that no one was injured without reason, and he'd even considered donating any leftover cash to charity. All to live. All to feel.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

"Suit up!"

The Mark II began to assemble around Tony, eventually slamming the face-plate of the helmet down on his nose. Outside was a solid 40 degrees, not that he could feel it.

"Scan for any buildings showing signs of damage."

A long list popped up.

"Ok, scan for any damaged banks."

A similar, slightly shorter list appeared.

"Jeez, how many banks do we have?! Any banks showing signs of...vaults that have been opened."

A single entry popped up.

"Time of opening?"

A static display of five minutes replaced the single entry.

"Just in time."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

The goons weren't too hard to deal with, a single blast enough to render them unconscious. He ventured deeper into the vault, and found a man. He was tall and physically imposing, with military-style hair. He was wearing a light-grey suit, which resembled stonework. His eyes were covered by blue sunglasses, which had subtle, almost-noticeable black rectangles in the middle of each lens.

"So, you're...sorry, what are you?" He had an accent that was an unfortunate hybrid of American and French.

"I'm Iron Man. Now, Pepé Le Pew, you gonna step outside and allow me to willingly arrest you or not?"

The stranger chuckled.

"A man of iron...I wonder if a needle can prick metal skin."

He removed a syringe from his pocket.

"Hey, at _least _tell me your name before you become even more of a person affiliated with the word prick!"

"I'm the Gargoyle, mon ami. And I believe it's time for you to be still!"

The Gargoyle tried to stab the needle into the gap between two of the plates on Tony's arm, but it didn't work. Laughing, Tony punched him in the ribs, trying to get him to double over. The Gargoyle seemingly felt nothing, shouldered Tony out of the way and ran outside. He disappeared into the night.

"Dear God, I hate flu jabs."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

After sifting through a whole bunch of sites and databases, Tony finally found the Gargoyle.

"Paul Duval," he whispered to himself, reading off a poorly-coded site which seemed to be a spiritual relic of the Nineties, "terrorist, blah blah blah, oh, here we go, that's more like it."

He began to copy down the big piece of info he'd just found, then copied it into his computer. Duval would have to be ready.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

"Duval! I know you're here!"

The Gargoyle stepped back into the vault.

"Ah, so my metal friend returns."

"I doubt we're friends."

The Gargoyle laughed.

"I'm amongst friends, friends on bills. You may as well be included."

"Well, what kind of jerk uses his friends for scientific research?"

The Gargoyle stopped smiling and growled.

"You know?"

"What, that your headaches are incurable? That those injections are various cures, and that you tested yourself first. I know that you can't feel anything now, except for the headaches. And I also know that you only need money to get better resources for research."

"If I were a nervous man, I would consider you a threat mon ami. But I do not accept fear easily."

"Shame. Now no one's gonna cower when I beat your sorry ass!"

The Gargoyle lunged at him, but he responded by blasting him in the chest. Duval flew to the far wall, but got up straight away.

"Just keep trying, man of iron!"

They engaged in a clumsy fist-fight. Tony smacked Duval across the face with a hard punch, but Duval retaliated with an equally strong one. He looked for something, anything that could KO him. He sighed.

"Transfer repulsor power to chest piece." he winced. An almighty ray of powerful energy surged from him, pounding Duval against a wall, unconscious. Tony staggered outside, having enough power to fly home.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

The next day was a flurry of news, detailing the capture of the "Statue Killer". He'd never really gotten how Duval was labelled a killer, considering no one really died.

He had an idea.

"Computer, come here a sec."

An interactive interface popped up from the screen that was embedded in the table.

"No offence, but you're dull. Load File 616."

A long list of names appeared.

"Activate program JARVIS."

There was a moment of silence.

"Good afternoon sir." said the digital voice of Jarvis.

"Afternoon Jarvis. Good to have you back."


	5. The Great Gamma Game

Tony looked down at the generator powering his workshop and sighed.

"It's not looking good, Jarvis."

"Indeed sir. High concentrated levels of gamma radiation leaking through."

"Gamma, eh. Wonder if I can call him in."

"Dr Banner is currently under government-imposed house arrest, sir."

"Eh, we'll just bust him out."

He heard Pepper coming, and so told Jarvis to deactivate for two seconds. She was about to walk inside.

"Woah woah woah!"

"What?!"

"Radiation!"

"Get out then!"

"Got work to do, come back later!"

"Someone's here to see you- radiation?!"

"Who?"

"Some guy from the government, I don't know."

The government was just who he needed to talk to.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Upstairs sat a man in a long coat.

"I'm not the kind of man who usually makes house calls, Mr Stark."

"Well, I'm not the kind of man who lets guests in."

The man was tall-ish, and resembled Samuel L Jackson. He had a leather eye patch, which covered his left eye, and a rough goatee that, spare his thick eyebrows, was his only source of head-hair.

"With all due respect, Stark, we both know you're more than a man."

"With all due respect, whoever you are, being a god is a tad hard."

The stranger laughed.

"Y'know, on any normal day I'd have had people come and take your suit from you by force. But I'm feeling generous today. I had a great Danish, the Mets won, and my favourite show just got renewed for another season. So I'm asking you nicely- give us your suit."

"I would, but I don't like getting naked in front of people."

"Fine. Mr Anthony Stark, your property is now property of S.H.I.E.L.D until further notice. On a further note I am placing you under arrest."

Pepper just looked, confused but clever. When that footage had leaked online, she too had correctly guessed it was Tony's.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

"So, Patches, who exactly are you?"

"I'm Nick Fury, director of S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Which _is_?"

"The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division."

"Which _is_?"

"We're basically the guys in semi-charge."

"And what do you need me for?"

"Protection, help. Now, get in. We're gonna be there soon."

The awaiting SUV went faster than expected.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Doctor Bruce Banner, forty-two and counting, sat on his couch, flicking calmly through every channel without any hope of finding anything he wanted to watch.

Outside were five patrol men, all armed with permission to use their idiocy. He had learned long ago, how to control. How to be calm yet attentive. He meditated five times a day, ate only vegetarian, and refrained from watching sports. The other guy was locked inside, without a key to free him.

His door was opened.

"Director Fury, nice to see you."

"Dr Banner, time for a trip."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

"So, uh, what are we doing?"

Banner sat across from a man he was sure he knew.

"Tony Stark, how ya doing?"

"Just fine, thanks. See Fury got you too, I presume you don't do what I do when I get angry."

"Nah, I'm here because I built a special suit for fighting crime."

"Sounds interesting."

Nick Fury sighed.

"Banner, you're here for Gamma radiation. Stark, you're here for consultation. I don't need a suit and I sure as hell do not need the Hulk."

"What kind of consulting?"

"Something fell from the sky. Some kind of machine. Since you're the only asshole in the city who has experience with this kind of stuff who is both trustworthy and not in prison, you're consulting. And before _you _get on my case, the..._thing _has got high levels of Gamma."

"And this thing is?"

"...we're not exactly sure."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

There was an eight-foot tall, silver person standing in the middle of the wide, scientist-filled room.

"Sexy."

"Wait, so you want us to tell you what Gort here is, and why it fell from the sky?"

"Oh, we know. You see, protocol states that I can't tell you anything until you are fully briefed and fully aware of the current situation."

"Which is?"

"This thing, which you have so happily taken to calling Gort, is from another world, another universe which sits on top of ours like a cloud."

Tony and Bruce looked at each other, confused and amused.

"So, you're saying there's another world, above ours right now?"

"Yes I am. And I'm sure you're familiar with it. It's called Asgard. And we have reason to believe they're planning an attack."

"What reason would this be?"

"Initial scans show something present inside. It's emitting some kind of power, some kind of dangerous system."

"Gamma radiation."

"Exactly. So, you two are gonna work together on finding a way of either disarming this, or harnessing its power for defence. I'll leave that choice up to you."

He left them.

"Right, better get started!"


	6. Forget The Giant, Remember the Spider

"Tony, I'm picking up...well, come see yourself."

Tony walked to Banner's computer.

"And I'm meant to see?"

"There's a constant line of energy coming from this, but it's unlike anything we know of. It's like this thing is running on empty but can still move."

"Well, only one thing we can do."

"What?"

"Poke it with a stick."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

They snapped cables onto it, and stood back.

"Ok, high voltage."

"You sure Stark?"

"Please, Tony."

"You absolutely positive, Tony?"

"As sure as I can be, Bruce."

"So not at all?"

"Nope. But who cares?"

He pulled down a lever and electricity surged into the creature. It didn't even move, not even a jerk.

"Well, that's...boring."

An agent walked in.

"Fury wants you."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

"When I asked you to do something with the thing out there, I did _not _mean jumpstarting it."

"Well, there was no rule against it, Nick."

Another agent entered, looking confused and fearful.

"Director Fury...uh..."

"What?"

"...it sorta vanished."

"Explain that again."

"It...uh...moved, then vanished into thin air."

Fury looked at them, with a gaze that could be read as "If you're to blame I'll kill you" or "out".

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

The CCTV footage provided a conclusion. The thing had moved, giving a glance to the room, and had then seemingly evaporated in a split second.

"Listen, director Fury, we were getting odd secondary energy readings during our examination."

"Which you will forget even existed, Doctor Banner. As far as I'm concerned you two were never here. Now, Stark. You'll be directed back to your place by Agent Hill. I will personally escort Dr Banner back to his secure location."

"So, you _don't _want the Iron Man suit?"

"Not officially. But that is one fine suit."

"You ask nicely and I might make you one, Nick."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll**

When Tony got home, he found a young kid, about 17, waiting for him. He had brown hair and wore an old black t-shirt, and a pair of old slacks. He had red sneakers on too. He sat outside his front door.

"Mr Stark? I need your help."

"Sorry kid, I'm not a guru."

"My name's Peter Parker."

"Well, Pete, you can get off my-"

"I know you're this Iron Man, if that helps my cause. Pretty cool, using an arc-reactor to emit that kind of sonic blast. Would try the same myself, but my uncle Ben is...was always strict when it came to massive, potentially dangerous experiments."

"And how do you know that?"

"I guess I was able to work out the one person rich enough to make a suit like that. Did they find Duval?"

"Still working on that one. Fine, tell me your story."

"My uncle Ben was murdered."

"Sorry to hear that."

"And I think the murderer was a friend of yours. I think the culprit is Tony Masters."

"I went to school with the guy, we're not friends. I don't do murders."

"I got powers too. Agility-"

"So you're a gymnast."

"-and I can stick to and crawl on walls. And guess what? This is because of another of your friends. Otto Octavius."

Tony looked at Peter.

"Well, guess we've got a killer to catch."


	7. Suit Me

"So, tell me 'bout your uncle Ben."

"He, uh, was a journalist. Retired, almost a decade. Married my aunt May, they truly loved one another. My parents just...well, they vanished. So they brought me up. The, uh, last time I talked to my uncle, we...we we're having this argument over how I'd forgotten to pick my aunt up. I stormed out, he came looking for me. I saw him...I saw him jerk as bullets hit him, fall as that...that thing, that monster ran. I saw, saw what life is and what it could be. I saw the responsibilities of our actions. That's what my uncle used to tell me. With great power, there must also come great responsibility."

"I like that. Listen, kid, if there's _anything _I can do, for you or your aunt-"

"Thanks, Mr Stark-"

"Please, Tony."

"-Tony. But it's ok."

"Listen, about these powers. We're gonna work on them."

"What, you're gonna make into some kind of Iron Lad?"

"I was thinking Iron Boy, but if it's Lad you want..."

Pepper walked inside.

"Oh, sorry-"

"Pepper, this is Peter Parker. He's a new friend."

"Hey Peter."

"Hi, Mrs Potts."

Pepper beckoned Tony outside.

"Who's the kid?"

"Someone we're helping."

"So, we're a charity now?"

"Well..."

"You're supposed to talk to me about any-"

"Listen, if we're being honest there's something I haven't told you."

"Which is?"

"Jarvis?"

"Yes, sir?"

Pepper froze, and looked at him.

"Is that-"

"Our automated system integrated with the basic vocal patterns and thought process as our ex-butler? Of course. Now, if you'll excuse me I've got a protégé waiting."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Tony Masters had been living rough for a few months now. His abilities were enough to keep him going, to keep him hoisted up at the top of the chain, as was his charisma.

Of course, there had been the simplest of roadblocks. The death of that old-timer, for one. Not something he'd intended to do, but something that was irreversible and highly unfortunate for others.

He was a great thief, but not when modern day saints who tried to stop him.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

"Protégé?"

"So you could hear me?"

"Yep. You should invest in relationship advice and sound proofing."

"We're not in a- oh, never mind. So, uh, you in the mood for inventing?"

"Depends."

"On what, materials? Instructor? Location?"

"On what you want to make."

"Well, you're basically a spider human. Let's get you some webs."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

"You sure about this, Tony?"

"Yes. Well. No, but kinda. Just try it out."

There was an object, not too dissimilar to a watch, strapped to Peter's right wrist. It had a carefully balanced pressure pad which was attached to a shooting mechanism. He pressed two fingers down on the pad, and the shooter fizzed out and did nothing.

"The cable's jammed."

"I know a substitute," Peter said, removing the shooter, "it's an adhesive, pretty strong too. I developed it to hold super-heavy models. Should support anything from a person to a bus or maybe even a building."

"Are you _sure _you're not secretly me from the past?"

Twenty minutes later, Peter came back with a small metal desk. He inserted it into the web-shooter and pressed down on the pad. This time, a sticky, strong stream of webbing flew out and hit the opposite wall.

"How long does this stuff stay solid?"

"Dissolve rate varies. I mean, I have a batch that'll last forever, whereas I also have one that only lasts five minutes."

"And this one?"

"Five minutes."

"Good. You got a costume?"

"Sketches of one, I guess."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Tony stared at the costume Peter had designed, with awe. It was mainly a strong red, with a blue motif which ran from under the arms, around the torso, and ending in the small of his back. There was a light webbing design on the costume too. The mask covered the entire head, and had big white eyes with black borders. It was the same colour as the suit. There were small areas cut out for the web-shooters at the wrists, too, and a pocket for holding web cartridges.

"So, we need a name for me."

"I was thinking Superman."

"How about Spider-Man? Sounds less...less pretentious."

"Fine. Spider-Man. The Amazing Spider-Man, the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man."

"The slightly fed up Spider-Man..."

"Master Stark, a man matching Masters' description has been spotted at a downtown bank." interjected Jarvis.

"Any hostages?"

"Three, sir."

He looked to Peter.

"We're up."


	8. No Blood

Masters wore a raggy, hole-punctuated white sheet as a cape, using an open plastic bag as a hood. He had white stuff, probably chalk, smeared all over his face, possibly as war paint. He had a service revolver tucked into a pair of ratty old pants, a sword made of a sharp piece of metal tied to a wooden cross, and a shield made of a trashcan lid reinforced awkwardly with sheet metal. He wore white combat boots, and had a blue, frayed rope looped into his belt.

In front of him knelt three people (a man, woman and child). Specifically chosen to represent the people who screwed him over.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Tony flew, while Peter tested out flinging himself from building to building using his agility and his web. He'd been given an earpiece for communication without shouting.

"Hey, webhead."

"What, Tin Pan Alley?"

"According to Jarvis, our friend Masters lost his family to some professor, Roderick Kingsley. Went insane, started stalking them, threatened to kill the three of 'em. Got put into witness protection."

"So?"

"The three hostages? A man, woman and child. He's delusional, obviously thinks they're them."

"Then why kill uncle Ben...wait, was Masters ever treated?"

"Once, by a Christopher Chackwell. Why?"

"Pull up a picture."

"Okay."

"Describe him."

"Old, kinda sullen."

"He thought Ben was Chackwell! He killed him because...because he made a mistake..."

"Well, we're going to make no mistakes. He's down there."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Masters turned as the two heroes burst in.

"Who the hell are you?!" he cracked, waving the sword around.

"Well, I'm Eva."

"And I'm Tim."

"Names of my wife and kids. You think I'm insane, don't you?"

"Kinda."

"Well I'm not."

"You're a killer though!"

"Really?"

"Remember that old guy? The one you gunned down?"

Masters sighed.

"Listen, kid. A hitman is a hitman. I got a job, I do it."

"Hitman? What kind of hitman takes hostages?"

"The kind of one who's a professional. One who went undercover as a bum, the kind who used family history to create an insane persona. The kind of professional hired to create distractions."

"From what?"

"From those high-up. That old timer used to be a journalist. Let's just say that he had something which my employers need. Something big, bad and- well, big. But, they won't care for witnesses, so..."

He raised the sword to swipe at the kid, but Peter pulled him and the others out of the way using a string of web. He got them safely outside.

"Y'know Masters, I know a guy who knows you."

"Really, who's that? The Cowardly Lion?"

"Tony Stark. We're kinda friends."

"So, what's the name?"

"Iron Man. You? I'm guessing bagman? Super Bum?"

"They call me Taskmaster. You wanna guess why?"

"Not particularly."

Taskmaster growled and lunged at Tony. They grappled, and punched. Tony felt the force of each hit, as if he had amazing strength.

"They call me Taskmaster. Some say I'm an absorbing man, who can take any physical power he sees and mimic it. Others call me insane. I prefer to be an artisan, or maybe a figurehead. Just don't call me lazy."

"I wasn't planning on!" Tony heaved, as he pushed Taskmaster out of the way. Peter swung in and kicked his adversary against the wall. They too became embroiled in a clumsy fist-fight, Taskmaster returning each of Peter's moves exactly.

"You missed the talk. I'm not really the kind of guy who repeats himself, so come in on time if there's a next time!"

He lunged again.

"I know you're thinking, 'why doesn't he use the gun?' Well, that's just messy work. And too easy."

"Well, good thing I like the easy way out."

Tony blasted a repulsor shot, which sent Taskmaster soaring outside. He ran, and Peter followed despite Tony's warning against it.

Taskmaster ran into a secluded alley and emerged into the sky on a sleek silver, sort-of glider. It resembled a motorcycle with wings. Peter jumped after him but Tony brought him back.

"What are you doing?!"

"Saving you from ruining your life!"

"As if you'd know!"

"I would, actually. Because unlike you I have killed a man! Now, you do the sensible thing and work on researching Masters and all his stuff, and _then _work on a _bloodless _vendetta! I'll see you 'round."

He flew off. He forgot the messaging link was still connected.

"Thank you." Peter sighed, tears evident.

"Don't mention it, kid."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Taskmaster hopped inside his employer's office.

"You took your time, Masters. I was going to send out a search."

"Sorry boss. Ran into two problems of equal annoying value."

"No matter. With Ben Parker gone, I'm almost done. We just need Murdoch. Go. Lay low, until I raise the alarm."

"`Kay boss."

Taskmaster left. His employer reclined and sighed, the pale moonlight reflecting off their forehead.


	9. The Unicorn, the Patriot and the Robot

Justin Hammer felt like a lucky man. Someone had bailed him out (he had a feeling he knew who), and on the same day someone _else _had pulled strings to get him amenity.

Or at least he thought it was amenity. It was whichever one gave him protection from the law.

He sat in a conference room, waiting for an old friend. He entered, slightly balding with prominent features.

"Ah, Norman. Long time no see."

"I've got no time for pleasantries Hammer. I didn't get you out of hell to just chitchat."

"What am I out for?"

"As the man who has fought against Tony Stark in your market and repeatedly lost, I thought you may like a chance to win. Take a look at this."

He turned on a TV, which displayed images of a man in an iron suit.

"This thing one of those Japanese gameshows?"

"This is Iron Man. We believe if you can recreate this, you'll run Stark into the ground."

"This OsCorp stuff?"

"No. This is part of the Iron Patriot Initiative."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Tony relaxed outside as a familiar face approached him.

"Did the other pirates mutiny?"

"I'm not here to joke, Stark." replied Nick Fury, sitting next to him.

"What's up now? Giant dog from Nirvana?"

"Something bigger. Justin Hammer has just been pardoned, released and granted an unusual amount of freedom. We think he's going to try and at least run you into the ground."

"I'm waiting for the bit about National security."

"Well, word is he's got someone looking for you. Hitman, goes by the name of Unicorn. Known also as Milos Masaryk and Aaidan Blomfield."

"Unicorn?"

"He wears a kind of laser beam device on his forehead, powered by his jaw. He grits it, and the pressure causes this- Look, you just need to know that he's coming. And that Iron Man needs to remain a separate entity from you in the public eye."

"Only one person besides you and Banner knows. Kid, called Peter Parker."

"Parker is currently in a police station waiting guidance from yours truly."

Fury got up.

"S.H.I.E.L.D has a couple of projects coming up that may need your guidance. So, keep alive and you could have government protection."

"Or you could have Iron Man protection."

"I guess."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

The Unicorn was a title handed down from individual to individual, held in the same tier as royalty.

This particular incarnation was just a face, a new look for the age-old figure. The role had also diminished in importance over the years. Once it was the title of a warrior, now it was one of a measly hitman.

He approached the home of Tony Stark, well aware of the previous attempt at a hit and what had happened to the previous hitman. But he learned from another's mistakes, as he always did. He simply walked right into the garden, just like he always did on hits.

And he found an unusual ornament.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

"Y'know, everyone knew you were coming here. I was gonna get you a beer, but I wasn't sure if you drank or not."

Tony looked at the man who wanted to kill him, and couldn't help but chuckle. In front of him stood a figure clad in almost bondage-quality leather, with a red glass cone with tufts of wires sticking out strapped to his head. He wore fingerless gloves too.

"What, cat got your tongue? Come on, My Little Pony! At least tell me I'm doomed!"

The Unicorn clenched his jaw.

"Oh, I heard about this one. You control that little cone of yours with your teeth, right? So _that's _why you don't talk."

A beam fired at Tony. He walked out of the way.

"Y'see, I'm very spry. I wonder if you are too."

He fired a shot. The Unicorn flew backwards, and fell unconscious. Nick Fury stepped into the garden, something which Tony didn't expect.

"Lemme guess. You guys-"

"-needed him down? Not a chance. Whoever he was, we didn't lure him here. I only came here to ask permission for something. Dr Hank Pym, needs access to the Iron Man schematics. We're thinking of creating safety measures inspired by it."

"Only if I supervise."

"Done."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Hank Pym was a tall man with brown-blonde hair and no sign of stubble. He wore a labcoat, which trailed down to just before his shoes. Tony walked into his lab, getting a wiff of smoldering metal.

"So, Pym."

He turned.

"Oh, Stark. Welcome. I heard you met Bruce recently, how's he doing?"

"He's calm."

"Good."

Tony took off his sunglasses.

"So, I hear you've made something with my tech. Mind if I look?"

"Well, I've got a head made. For a security measure."

He dumped a silver head on the table in front of him. It had a gaping mouth, slanted eyes and long rods, one on each side of the head.

"You got a name for it yet?"

"Nope."

"How 'bout something dumb?"

"Like what?"

"I dunno, what about Ultimo? Nah."

"Nah."

"I know...how about Ultron?"

"Ultron...I like that. Ultron it is."


	10. The Destroyer Returns

Billy Lee tended to his farm, his tractor squashing the soft, damp earth beneath its thick tires. This land had been in his family for years, and would remain in it for years more. He was getting old, and with a grandchild born and two more on the way, he couldn't be more thrilled.

The sky above had been threatening those below it with passionate thunder for the last ninety minutes, which wasn't strange around these parts. The lightning was, however, out of place, in pillars of electricity.

He looked forward, away from the sky, and almost crashed into something. It was like a statue, giant and made of an odd kind of metal. He reached out to touch it, but it moved so he drove away from it and immediately called the police.

But something else turned up. Nick Fury approached the familiar figure slowly. He beckoned to Maria Hill, who walked behind him.

"Get Stark here. Tell him an old friend is here. I'll get Banner."

He sighed. Today was going nice until now.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Tony spotted Bruce Banner, already running tests on the giant metal man.

"Hey, big man, we getting-"

"Readings like before? Yep. And even more, they found a name printed on it. 'Destroyer'. Yeah, I know, kinda pretentious."

"I think we should open it up."

"How?"

"Must be some sorta panel on it. Like how seagulls always seem to have radar for crap."

A short sliding panel 'shucked' open, revealing a lever. Tony and Bruce looked at each other.

"Fury!" they yelled in unison, while laughing in relief and anxiety.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

There was a message imprinted on the panel, which read "Those who Bear the Wit of Mydrnl Be fit To open The works of Asgard."

"So, uh, you want me to suit up?"

"Yes. Just as a precaution."

"Ok. But as for what we discussed after Fluttershy McBondage attacked me: No."

"There's no debate. You go suit up, you go pull that lever and you help out with Operation War Machine. End of."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

He wrenched the lever up, which caused the head to open and send a small cube spinning out. It was blue and shimmering, and sent Banner crazy. Fury dragged the scientist out of trouble, calming him while he watched Tony pick the cube up and, with clear pressure, push it back into the Destroyer and close the hatch. He looked at Fury and shook his head. Fury sighed, and gave the signal for Tony to retreat.

"Bury the thing." he muttered to Agent Hill.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Tony sat Pepper down.

"Listen, I have something to-"

"Iron Man? Yeah, I know. I'm capable of opening your doors, y'know. So, what's happening now?"

"I'm...I guess I've been commissioned to build more suits. Got some awesome ideas. Get this: 'Hulk Buster'. How great is that?"

"And I presume we're getting nothing for this?"

"Actually, we're getting diplomatic immunity."

Pepper made a quiet "oh" sound, and got up. She paused as Nick Fury entered and patted him on the back before leaving.

"So, you got ideas?"

"I'm thinking gatling-gun, tankbusters and most importantly, a failsafe so no one innocent gets hurt. Also, I think we need to build a Hulk-Buster, heavy duty armour in case of Banner. And I've got some ideas for space stuff-"

"I'll take the first two. Get in touch when they're done, I'll get agent Coulson to pick them up."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

The Arctic rarely had secrets to keep, especially to the lowest fishermen. Yet, as they dragged the spectral block of ice from the ghostly water, they felt betrayed. The cold tomb turned into the blood of the earth gradually, freeing the man who rested inside. He opened a solitary eye, as he emerged from the pale universe of sleep, and screamed. The scream was one word, one usually innocent word.

"_**Bucky!**_"


	11. An Interlude of Patriotic Proportions

He felt oxygen pound into his lungs, and memories flood into his mind. Once he had finished screaming, finished feeling the guilt of Bucky. The men who surrounded him, fishermen by the looks of them, gave each other worried looks.

"Are you okay?" asked one of the men, with a thick beard and greasy hair that resembled a mane. He nodded his head, as a bottle of water was lowered to his lips. He gulped down the liquid thankfully, and raised his upper body using his elbows.

"Where...where am I?" he asked, more of a croak than a fully-powered exclamation.

"The Arctic ocean. We fished you out, took a break from fishing. What's your name?"

"Steve."

"Hello Steve, I'm Martin. This is Arthur, Clancy, Ern and Tim."

He gave them a nod each.

"We..we going to the US anytime soon?"

"Well, yes. Right now. No catch equals no reason to stay."

"Why no catch? Fish on...holiday or something?"

"Well, that's the thing. We dunno. Radar and sonar pickin' up nothin'. Still, we got no cell phone signal either so what should we expect?"

"Cell phone? What the...hell is a cell phone?"

"How long you been down there?"

"What year is it?"

"2013, why?"

2013?! It...it couldn't be. 69 years ago...the plane crash. The cube had vanished, the voice...oh that voice. Guiding him. The watcher who had guided him to safety under the ice, the one who had helped keep him going.

He would have to come to terms with it. What had Churchill called it? Stiff upper lip?

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

**Five Months Later **

Steve Rogers found a man with an eyepatch waiting for him at the docks.

"Sorry, my mom told me not to talk to strangers."

"Yes, but the government is the mother of Captain America. And technically I'm the government. Or at least part of it."

Steve looked down at the mention of 'captain america'.

"Well, _mom_, I'm grounded."

"Rogers, I don't care whether you want to help or not. We need Captain America."

"Well, I don't."

He tried to walk away.

"What if I told you that Zemo was back?"

He stopped.

"You still got the shield?"

"No, but I can get you one."

Steve sighed.

"Fine."

They walked towards a black jeep.

"By the way, they weren't fishermen."

He looked back to see the people who had rescued him, laughing with agents in black suits.


	12. Iron Man Or How A Bird Got His Wings

Tony had to make a decision.

The press all knew, the government knew, even the local church knew (they'd sent a hamper). So, knowing the danger, he stepped up to the podium, cleared his throat and sighed.

"Ladies, gentlemen, you all know the story. Tony Stark, billionaire, gets kidnapped in the desert, injured too. Well, that story is built on a foundation of lies. Allow me to explain; I escaped my captors myself using a really uncomfortable, not even flattering iron suit. You may have recognised another suit, another _iron man _in this city. Well, that isn't a coincidence. _I am Iron Man_. I am the man of the skies. And I'm here to protect you."

The crowd erupted in screams, all looking for answers to questions. He didn't need to answer any.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

"Listen, I've got custom, hack-proof software. Jarvis can activate it if any intruders try to get in. They'll be shot with a highly concentrated pound of awesome. So we're safe."

Tony swallowed his scotch, while Pepper still felt slightly anxious. Knowing Tony personally had now made her a target. A target for any lunatic in a suit or any terrorist to gain leverage or inflict pain on Tony.

"I'm...I'm fine."

The phone rang. Tony told Jarvis to put it on loud speaker.

"Tony, it's Peter."

"Pete, how's it going?"

"Ok, I guess. Listen, I've got this problem."

"Shoot."

"It's about this guy who works at my school. He's an assistant teacher."

"Go on."

"Anyway, I keep seeing him hanging around OsCorp. So in my cleverness, I dug some stuff up. His name's Blackie Drago. Get this: he's the nephew of Adrian Toomes."

Tony looked apprehensive.

"You think-"

"That Drago is looking for something that Toomes built? Yeah. What if Toomes built one of those jetpacks you told me about?"

"Toomes knew he was dying. He must have told Drago to pick up the finished product and to use it. I'll dig into this. Thanks kid."

"No problem. By the way, you hear about this crimson guy? They're calling him a reckless daredevil. Apparently he looks like the devil too?"

"I'm sure it's just an urban legend."

"Ok. See ya."

Peter hung up. Tony turned to Pepper.

"Guess I'm looking for the future past."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Blackie Drago entered his uncle's office, a memento to dust by this point. He ripped apart the desk, finding nothing. Turning his attention to the odd cupboard, he also found nothing. But when he pounded his fist on it, a panel opened. He removed a small remote with one button, pushing down on the soft circle. The wall opened to reveal a jetpack with wings of metal feathers attached to it. Next to it was a green fibreglass armour, with a bird-like helmet that had space for a face.

"Uncle Ade, you sure knew how to treat a guy."


	13. The Cowardly Bird of Prey

Tony felt the presence of another as he sped through the sky towards OsCorp. Before he knew it, a pair of arms gripped him and began to drag him downwards. He craned his head to see a man in green armour and metal wings.

"Who the- Blackie Drago, I presume."

"Actually, I prefer the Vulture!"

They grappled, with Tony dragging Drago down to a rooftop.

"Y'know, I met Adrian Toomes."

Drago looked at him and spat.

"What did he say?"

"Nothing much. I...kinda..smooshed his chest in with my foot...yikes."

Drago looked at him, then charged at him with a snarl. They threw heavy punches at each other, testosterone levels building sky-high. Tony landed a hit right into Drago's gut, breaking the armour of his attacker. Drago staggered backwards, and dived off the roof. He flew away, with a cowardly cry of "the best men run away!" Tony laughed, and sighed before sitting on the ground.

"Jarvis, I think I'm gonna take a nap. Can you fly us home?"

"Certainly sir."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

High in the mountains sat a doctor. A doctor of immense power and wisdom. A sorcerer supreme. He concentrated on the energies around him, the eye of Agamotto there to guide him. His astral plane shifted, as a figure approached from the cosmic mists.

"Stephen Strange...your life seems peaceful."

"Well, my friend, the mountains provide a tranquillity."

The figure wore white robes and had an enlarged head. This was Uatu, the Watcher. He had contacted Strange sixteen months previously, and belonged to another world.

"Your world is to be threatened..."

"By whom?"

"A being of immense power, who wishes to please the cold immortal hands of darkness. He shall strike in three earth months. You _must _be ready."

"But I am one man. Granted I hold the title of Sorcerer Supreme, but even I hold insufficient power to deal with such threats!"

"There is a man known as Tony Stark. He resides in the country of America, in the region known as New York. He holds the mantle of Iron Man. You must venture to him, for he is destined to fight."

Uatu retreated into the mists. Strange came back to the world, and stood. He still had his residence in Manhattan, a nice home which he enjoyed. He packed away his necessities and walked out into the yonder, towards the man who would save the earth.


	14. Hawkeye

Tony walked towards his door, and dived when the arrow flew past his head and embedded itself in the doorframe with a "frung". He turned and saw a shadowy figure, who lowered a bow.

"You Robin Hood?"

"Suppose so. My name's Clint Barton, and I want a million dollars. If I don't get it, I will honest-to-God shoot you through the head."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Tony sat down outside the door and placed his hands under his chin. Clint walked over, arrow taken from a quiver from his back.

"What's the money for?"

"Why?"

"I ought to know what the hell I'm gonna be robbed for."

Clint laughed.

"Y'know, you're funnier than they say. Still, I need the money. Go to the Bahamas, retire for life."

Tony shook his head.

"You're lying."

"Suppose I am. Why should you care?"

"Because whatever family problems you have I will happily fix them."

Clint sighed, and put the arrow back.

"So much for Robin Hood, eh?"

"You seem like more of a Friar Tuck to me."

"Look. We've got outstanding stuff. Medical bills, loans, et cetera. The house I grew up in will be repossessed, and the tenants thrown out. Then the next guy, and the next guy, until no one is left."

"You can't help everyone."

"But you can try!"

Tony sighed again.

"Look. When I go out there, as Iron Man, I try to try and help. I don't try to help."

"Why?"

"Because if I try to help, I'll end up helping too little. But if I try to spur up others to help, then everyone gets something."

"You kinda seem delusional."

"You kinda seem naïve. A million? Really?"

"Worth a shot."

"Worth anything, but you wouldn't get it. If anything, you'd get 100,000. At _most._"

Clint sighed.

"Listen, Barton-"

"Clint"

"-Clint, I'm gonna help you and your family and the others. But in return you're gonna help me with the city. There are others: Spider-Man, Captain America, and God knows Banner may one day control the Hulk. There's even one guy I'm waiting to meet who apparently is called Daredevil. You're gonna be a hero."

"Do I have to wear spandex?"

"No, but you better mask-up. You want a name?"

"I dunno. I've got perfect aim. How 'bout Hawkeye?"

"Hawkeye it is."

The two parted company. Tony immediately got inside, and found a man sipping from a cup and sitting in his armchair. He had a mustache and wore a red robe and blue shirt.

"And you are?"

"Dr. Stephen Strange, sorcerer supreme."

"And you're in my house _because?_"

"A terrible evil is approaching in three months. An evil from beyond our world."

"It have a name?"

"Uatu the Watcher has granted me a name through the astral plains. The name of Thanos, the Mad Titan."

"Right. So, uh, you wanna leave yourself out or?"

The surroundings began to morph and change into different colours and shapes. Then there was peace, and a smoke. Through the smoke stepped a tall man with a large head and white eyes.

"I am Uatu the Watcher. Anthony Stark, your destiny is approaching."

"Oh yippee."


	15. Advice and Preparations

Tony felt shook up after his...well, whatever that was. Strange was still there.

"What do I do?"

Strange sighed and stood up.

"The Eye of Agamotto fails to give me guidance, nor does Uatu inform me of the future. All you may know of the future is that it possibly brings death."

He walked to the door.

"Can I count on you when hell falls from the sky?"

He turned to look at Tony.

"Yes, my friend. I shall reside in this city for the time being."

"Thank you."

Strange left. Tony got up, and walked into the kitchen. Steve Rogers sat at his table.

"Jesus Christ, can I go one minute tonight _without _being disturbed?!"

Steve laughed.

"I need help, and you're the only guy I can really turn to."

"Shoot."

"They've made me a hero, Stark. I'm being held up in the light and I don't think I should be there. How do you deal with it?"

"You want the whole 'Look Inside' talk? Well, sorry to disappoint. Don't want to be a hero? Don't be a hero."

"But I want to-"

"Then _be _a hero! Jeez. Have something, someone to latch onto, to be the person or thing you fight for. And then forget them. Do stupid things and just hope that they work out."

"...thanks?"

"Good. Now, if you excuse me I need to sleep."

He walked upstairs, and Steve slipped back outside.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Tony set off early next morning to see someone who knew about space.

He entered the Baxter Building, and jogged into the elevator. He knocked on the only door on his chosen floor.

A greying man answered the door.

"Tony. Nice to see you."

"Reed."

"Come in."

He stepped inside, and found himself surrounded by papers and machines.

"Listen, I need to talk about space."

"Well, as someone who has been there and of course, been affected by it, I can see why you came."

"Show me, first. Stretch Armstrong."

Reed sighed, and his arm stretched incredibly over to his fridge. He removed a beer and handed it to Tony, before his arm went back to normal. Reed, his wife Sue, her brother Johnny and his friend Ben had been part of an expedition to space. Reed had wanted to measure and look at potentially dangerous flares, and his ship had been bombarded by strange energy. Reed had been given the power to stretch his body, Sue had been granted invisibility and limited abilities to create barriers, Johnny had been given the ability to cover himself in flames and flight, whereas Ben had been irreversibly turned into a stone creature.

"How long would it take something coming from space to be seen in the sky?"

"Depends on where it's coming from. Why?"

"Oh, nothing, Just an alien invasion that's happening in three months."

"What?!"

They both looked as a blond woman appeared out of nowhere.

"I was contacted by this guy, Dr. Strange. Said I was destined to fight a threat from another world. Then a big-headed guy called Uatu whisked me off to the astral planes, told me that a guy called Thanos is coming in three months."

They laughed. However, their surroundings changed into a misty blackness.

"Not now, Big head!" Tony sighed. Uatu walked from the mist.

"Anthony Stark tells the truth. Thanos shall arrive in this city, to wreak havoc and murder on a large scale. He shall wipe out the human race."

"Why?!"

"Thanos seeks only to please Death, the one woman he let enter his heart. The only way he knows how to do this is by destroying life."

"But what do we-"

"I have to get the world ready. I have to gather an army, to fight Thanos. All I've got so far is Steve Rogers, Peter Parker, Dr. Strange and Clint Barton. Nick Fury, maybe. Bruce Banner, hopefully. And me, of course."

"We'll help too. The four of us."

"Thanks, guys."

Uatu retreated and the world returned to normal.

"You guys tell Johnny and Ben, I'll go tell the others."

They nodded. The preparation for the fight was underway.


	16. The X-Men

Tony was in full flight when he was shot down. He felt and heard the bullet 'ping', before skyrocketing out of control, down towards unfamiliar grass. He lay, gazing up at the blue roof of the world, weak. He ripped off his face-plate, and breathed in cool, fresh air, sighing. He looked upwards and around for the assailant, but saw nothing. He exhaled, and got up with a couple of awkward grunts. He carried his face-plate with him, like some kind of ostracised iPad, walking towards a clearing in the surrounding oaks.

He found himself staring at a brown-brick mansion, seemingly abandoned. He trudged up the gravel path to the front door, and opened it slowly, hearing it creek awkwardly. Inside was well kept, with neither dust nor cobweb adorning anything.

"Hello?" he called. There was a shuffling, and a small old man hobbled out.

"Yesh?" he croaked, missing teeth, "who are you?"

"Uh...Bruce...Parker."

"Sho, whats bringsh you to these partsh?"

"Need to use a phone."

"Shome fancy get-up ya got there, shon."

"Thanks. You got a phone?"

"Shorry, son. Don't gotsh one."

Tony nodded, and went back outside. Then he realised something, and put the face-plate back on.

"He pronounced son perfectly." he whispered, and stormed back inside. The old man laughed, and changed into a young man with long hair, in a yellow and black jumpsuit.

"Professor, he knows! My act can't be that bad."

"You said son, not shon. Who are you?"

"I'll answer that. Thank you, Morph."

"No problemo, Professor."

A bald man in a wheelchair entered into the room. He smiled at Tony.

"Tony Stark, the Iron Man himself."

Tony felt the urge to leave, but walked forward awkwardly.

"Who are you?"

"I am Professor Charles Xavier. This is my school."

"Private school?"

"I suppose you could say that. Now come along, I want to show you something."

He was led into a kind of study. There were numerous people inside. There was a guy wearing red-tinted sunglasses and short hair, a woman with grey hair, another woman with flowing orange hair, a blond teenage male, and a rough looking man with black hair that slightly spiked at the edges.

"Where is Beast?"

"Up here."

A blue shape fell from the rafters and onto the floor. Tony had removed the face-plate again.

"Tony Stark! Oh my stars and garters!"

"Hank McCoy?! Hey!"

They high-fived.

"You seem...different. Not that there's anything different."

"Who the hell is RoboCop here?"

"Calm down Logan," Xavier uttered calmly, referring to the rough-looking man, "this man was shot out of the sky. He came to borrow our phone."

"Why show him us then, Professor?" asked the man with sunglasses.

"I agree with Scott." replied the grey haired young woman.

"Scott, Ororo. Calm down, I read his mind when he came in. He's the infamous Iron Man. He's got a good heart."

"And a great smile." Tony cracked, getting a laugh out of the teenage boy.

"Good one."

"Thanks kid."

"Bobby. Bobby Drake."

Tony looked around.

"Look, you guys, I don't like having to refer to you all by hair colour. Except you, Lex," he said, looking at Xavier, "Hank, and Bobby."

They shuffled.

"I'm Scott Summers." said the man in sunglasses.

"Ororo Munroe" replied the grey haired woman.

"Jean Grey." said the orange-haired woman.

"Logan."

"And you guys are?"

"Mutants."

"Oh. Cool."

Xavier moved forward and beckoned for the others to follow.

"Come, let me show you how we operate."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Tony had learned that Scott could emit optic blasts from his eyes (which the shades blocked), Ororo could control and create weather conditions, Jean and Xavier had powerful telepathic powers, Bobby created ice and could cover himself in ice, Hank was now super-strong, had heightened speed and agility, and could hang onto surfaces with his original mutation (ape-like feet. The blue fur was the result of a self-tested mutant cure), and Logan had adamantium claws (three per hand) and a healing factor.

They also had codenames just in case. Scott was "Cyclops", Jean was "Marvel Girl", Bobby was "Iceman", Ororo was "Storm", Hank was "Beast", Logan was "Wolverine", and affectionately Xavier was "Professor X."

Tony was about to go, finally after calling Pepper.

"Listen, I-"

"I read your mind, and I am aware of the incoming invasion. You will have our services."

"Thanks. You better tell the others, might get a guy with a big head who really likes to interrupt at the wrong time."

He walked away, and found Pepper waiting at a roadside with a jeep.

"What happened? Wait, don't tell me. Someone beat you up?"

"I was shot down, met a mutant school and got them to help with the whole Thanos thing."

"Who shot you down?"

"No idea. I'll run diagnostics at home."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Tony's assailant walked into his employer's office.

"Did you get Stark?"

"Dropped like a stone."

"You know, I never asked for your name."

"Just call me...Coldblood."


	17. Crimson

Tony slid across the wet grass as his pride and strength took a hit. From his broken doorway stepped the so-called Crimson Dynamo, laughing with the kind of inflection that only a shipper or a politician would have.

**Forty-Eight hours earlier **

As Dmitri Bukharin arrived in America, he felt the weight of what was expected from him to be as light as a feather. He almost slid down the stairs from the plane, not from being giddy, but from the hurried temper he was in. He had the sinking feeling someone had busted his identity, despite having the 'perfect' fake passport.

He handed over said passport to a gruff official.

"Name?" he coughed, in an accent known to be from Brooklyn.

"Warren Bendis." he replied, in a pitch-perfect Australian accent. The official let him through, and he found himself walking out into the sun. Two men approached him, and let him slide into a black limo that awaited on the sidewalk.

"Afternoon, Dmitri."

"Mister Hammer, sir."

Justin Hammer took a swig of bourbon.

"Let's get cracking on Operation Crimson Dynamo, huh?"

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Tony finished his coffee, while Pepper savoured her tea.

"Y'know, I'll never get how you drink tea. It's like a cheap coffee."

Pepper sighed.

"You need to record yourself. You'll see how dumb some things you say are-"

"I've seen enough Arrested Development to know what you're implying."

The power seemed to dip for a second.

"Jarvis? That something we should be worried about?"

"Yes sir SiR _sir _**sir **_**SIR**_" Jarvis squealed, before maintaining normality, "just a short surge of data."

"What kind of data?"

"Opposing data, sir. Someone tried to crack into our systems."

"They get anything?"

"Regrettably sir, the original mark 1 schematics."

Tony slammed his cup onto the counter.

"Can we trace it?"

"Unable to trace sir. Third attempt...failed."

"Well, that's that then. We gotta get ready."

"For?"

"The bad guy coming to kill me, 'course."

**Present **

Tony remembered the other suit entering his house, declaring himself "The superior Crimson Dynamo!", then throwing him out through the wall. Thankfully and appropriately, he'd suited up.

"Tony Stark!" the Dynamo yelled, sounding as if he were smiling.

"I need to copyright my everything, if you're so willing to rip me off."

"I am no rip-off! I am an improvement."

"Damn-sure cockier too."

The Dynamo laughed, and raised his hand. A circle of short-range, small missiles popped out from the armour, and aimed themselves at Tony.

"Make peace with-"

**Six hours earlier **

"Now, Dmitri, I'm positive you remember our trial run in Moscow?"

"Yes."

"Good. So you know how to move, use weapons systems, that kinda thing?"

"Yes."

"You're annoyed, aren't you?"

"Yes."

Hammer sighed, and moved towards the door.

"By the way, we're using Stark schematics. You just kill him, and we'll be good."

**Present **

"-your deity."

Tony jumped out of the way and wrenched at the Dynamo's head. The metal helmet shot up, distracting the titan for a split second, long enough for Tony to fire numerous projectiles. The Crimson Dynamo stumbled back, and with one punch he fell into weak semi-consciousness.

"So, who sent you?"

"H...Hammer..."

He fell unconscious and Tony sighed.

"Justin just can't keep it clean."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Nick Fury looked at the various shadowy figures around him.

"Gentlemen, our world is in danger. I believe Operation Assemble should be pushed into action."

"And how many people are willing to co-operate?"

"Many. Tony Stark."

"The rash, dangerous Iron Man."

"Peter Parker."

"The young, inexperienced Spider-Man."

"Clint Barton."

"The renegade, understandably dangerous Hawkeye."

"The Richards, along with Johnny Storm and Ben Grimm."

"The so-called Fantastic Four."

"Hank Pym."

"Really? What's Pym doing on the list?"

"His new Pym particle-infused stuff has granted him shrinking powers."

"Really? So, he's some kinda Ant Man now?"

"And there are others. But our world will be defended."

"Never doubted it Nick."

"I know Alexander."


	18. The God of Thunder

Justin Hammer was at his breaking point.

"First we cancel the Iron Patriot Initiative because you have _'second thoughts'_, then you decide to terminate our armour division, _now _you want me to, what, kidnap Tony Stark? I tried that before, _Norman, _and in case you didn't notice, he kinda broke out and killed everyone."

Norman leaned forward on his desk.

"Justin, I don't want you to kidnap Tony. My boss wants you to kidnap Tony."

"Just who is this boss?"

"He prefers the shadows."

Justin removed a torch from his pocket and shined it in Norman's face.

"There. Shadows are gone."

"Have you ever heard the rumours of the man in the desert?"

"What, that guy? Thought he was an urban legend."

"We thought the Spider-Man was an urban legend."

Hammer chuckled.

"How's that going for you?"

"My son seems to think we need help from the spider. Drago's been hanging around for too long."

"Well, Drago's been paid to hang around. I was hoping Stark would show up."

Osborn sighed and stood up.

"Maybe next time, Justin."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Tony was entertaining a party of sorts. Around the largest table he could find were Pepper, Happy, Steve Rogers, Peter Parker, Bruce Banner, Hank Pym, Reed Richards, Sue Storm, Johnny Storm, Ben Grimm, Clint Barton and Nick Fury.

"So, the Mutant League stood us up?" Peter asked.

"Wouldn't blame 'em. Grimmy boy hasn't washed in weeks."

"Watch it, tin head."

"Ooh, saucy."

Fury cleared his throat.

"There's an invasion coming soon, people. We've got to be ready."

Reed stood up.

"I did research, and there's been a continuous spike of energy emanating from a continuous cosmic path."

"Could be Thanos?"

"I don't know Clint. Might just be a meteorite-"

"A meteorite isn't a constant build-up of energy, Reed." Tony interjected. Happy went outside for a minute.

"Why can't we just, I dunno, send guys up there?"

"You want me to sanction a full scale siege of a warmongering alien spacecraft?"

Happy came back.

"Uh, guys, someone you may want to see."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

They walked the blond haired man in some kind of armour inside. He carried a hammer, which hung at his hip.

"Ok Nickelback, what's your name?"

"I am Thor, son of Odin."

Tony just looked around.

"Seriously, what's your name."

"Thor, God of Thunder. I have been sent by Odin to protect your people."

"Yeah, ok, Happy why did you tell us about a delusional bum?"

"My people sent a being to you before. Its name was the Dest-"

"Did it look like a giant metal guy?"

Thor nodded. Tony and Banner looked at each other.

"Klaatu." they said in unison.

"Why did you send it down?"

"There was war on Asgard. I lost a friend and gained two foes."

"And in order to protect yourselves you send down the one thing with enough firepower to protect you?"

"The first occurrence was performed by the Trickster Loki. The second a mere copy of the Destroyer, containing Odin's-"

"Yeah yeah yeah, do you know a guy called Thanos?"

"I do not know of-"

"Welcome aboard the SS Avengers."

"We _aren't _calling ourselves that."

Fury whistled loudly.

"Can we _please _get back to defending the earth?!"

Tony shook his head.

"It's been two months since Uatu. I think it's time we train up separately. I'll initiate Van Halen over here."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Thor paced while Tony sipped a bottle of water.

"So, you're a god."

"Thou presumes on appearance, on legend. I am Asgardian. To us, thou can be the greatest of gods."

"But we still have our demons. I should know, I've been through the ringer."

Thor stopped moving.

"What danger do we have yet to face?"

"There's this mad...thing, this being called Thanos. He's coming, he's gonna cause trouble. So we're going to stop him."

"You would give up your life just to save those who do not know of you?"

"What is life if not being a hero?"

"You have bravery worthy of Asgard, Stark."

"Well, you aren't half bad yourself."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Uatu stood, hidden from the sight of every being on the planet. He sighed, as events played out from the future.

"Chaos is unwarranted. The future holds failure."

**To be continued in "Preludes to Chaos"**


	19. The Man of Ten Part I

The studio lights were burning.

"So, Tony," Stacy Kepasko, the blonde darling of Entertainment Force, drawled in her Boston accent, "what's it like fighting aliens?"

Tony shifted in his seat.

"Well, I, uh...you, uh, you saw it. It's like how it's been described I guess."

Kepasko was unrelenting, an odious being who never stopped buzzing in your ear.

"Ah come on Tony. You gotta give us the details!"

The audience murmured passionately in agreement.

"Fighting aliens is like fighting a school bully. Which is the same as fighting anything else. Now, can we-"

"It can't be that normal Tony? Come on, give us-"

"I'm giving you everything! You don't seem to realise that aliens are fundamentally the same as people. It's just that people don't have big ears. Now, can we _please _move on?!"

Kepasko sighed, and gave a sly look to the audience which Tony saw. He threw off his microphone and stormed off, as Kepasko tried to reassure the television audience that "they'd be back in a minute."

He exited through the front door, and immediately found a swarm of fans dressed as Iron Man waiting for him with pen and paper at the ready. He stormed through, a headache mounting up in his brain. Happy guided him into an awaiting SUV, and they drove off.

A man in plain clothes raised a phone to their ear.

"Too many people. I'll try and get after the vehicle, sir."

They hopped onto a motorcycle, and sped off after Tony.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

"Look at this idiot behind us."

Tony was indifferent, and quiet. Happy honked the horn and stuck his hand out the window, signalling the biker to overtake. But as the biker began to drive past, they threw something at the car, causing it to sharply come to a halt. The biker drew a gun from their chest.

"Tony, you...oh, lemme guess. You brought it with you?"

"Not as dumb as I act!"

He reached into the back and removed a suitcase.

"Only had time for the Mk. V."

He opened the case, revealing a red and silver armour.

"Show time."

The suit reached up around him, and Tony noticed the gunman seemed to be taking his time. Once fully embraced in the Mark V armour, he told Happy to get home.

"I don't appreciate being shot at, y'know."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't openly admit things."

"Who are you? Bruce Kill-us-With-Cheesiness? Joe Pathetic-si? Ray Li-no-tta? I can go all day."

"The name's Taggert. It's my pleasure, Tony."

"Well, I guess that's important. Lemme guess, you want fame? Glory? A handsome suit?"

"I'm working on orders. Can't say who. What I _can _say is that my boss is really, _really _peeved off with you. Or at least his-"

Tony just blasted him with a repulsor, lifting his body up and flying to the nearest cop. Said cop was dressed in over-fitting uniform, and was chewing on a donut.

"Lemme know when you're interrogating him."

"W-will do, Mr Stark."

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Taggert was cocky, sitting at an awkward angle with his hands on the table. There were dragon tattoos just visible on his arms, as well as a little '10' on the top of his hand. Tony walked in, ready to play the dual role of good cop/ bad cop.

"Hey big guy, did I hurt ya?"

"Not as much as we'll hurt you."

"Listen, who's we? You planning some kinda march on Wall Street?"

"There's ten of us. Ten for each ring on his finger. You'll have to find somewhere safe when he comes, because when he does, there won't be anywhere safe left to stand."

"Who's he?"

"Can't tell you."

"Choice or orders?"

"Can't tell you that either."

"Listen, we've got so many pointless ways of making you talk. I've got one extremely not-pointless at all way. Don't make me use it."

"Try me."

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

He removed something from his pocket. A shape walked inside, and immediately sprang and pinned Taggert down to the ground.

"A pretty strong remote controlled suit is currently holding you to the ground. I'll make him press harder if you don't talk."

"Go on then! Make my brains into paint if you want!"

Reluctantly he called away the suit (but first gave it a pat on the shoulder), and tossed Taggert across the room.

"So, who's paying you to kill me?"

"Kill you? Nah. He just wants an observation. I'm meant to injure you ASAP. Or at least stall you."

Tony got up and left.

"Make sure no one steps anywhere near him." he told the officer in charge, rushing out in irritation.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Taggert was sleeping when the sachet was tossed into his cell. He mumbled, and opened his eyes for a moment. Seeing the blue packet that had been thrown in with him he struggled, clawing at the cell door. He screamed for a split second before the whole room erupted in a cacophony of flaming damnation.

**lllllllllllllllllllllllllll **

Tony was awoken by a harsh sounding ring tone, regretting his decision to let Jarvis pick a random theme. The cops had been taken, along with Taggert.

He got out of bed and stretched.

"Jarvis, someone's just made a mistake."


End file.
